


Privation

by Lise



Series: Gehenna [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (sort of), Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Blood and Injury, Bottom Loki, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Femdom, Hurt Loki, Hurt/Comfort, I've been working on this fic for four goddamn years, Kink Negotiation, Loki Has Issues, POV Natasha Romanov, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Relationship Discussions, Relationship Negotiation, Top Natasha Romanov, Whump, really fucked up attitudes about sex and kink, some kinda heavy shit I guess, this is not how you have a conversation about kink guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 05:43:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11525736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: Things are kind of fucked up. Natasha didn't realize quite how much until now.Or, the state of things between Loki and Natasha needs to shift.





	Privation

**Author's Note:**

> So I started writing this fic "Friday, June 27, 2014, 1:13:18 AM" according to my Word document, and it is finally, 16k later, actually finished. It was just going to be some "post Winter Soldier kink negotiation fic" and then it kind of, uh, got large. On me. It turns out that there was a lot these two had to talk about, and a lot of beating on Loki that I needed to do. But here we are, finally! With a new installment of the Gehennaverse. 
> 
> There's a bit in the 'verse I reference in this fic that, in case you missed it, is [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10384344/chapters/22934523) \- that's really the only piece of this-canon-specific knowledge that you need as background, and even that can probably be picked up from context. For the rest of it, mostly what you need to know is that Natasha has been domming the fuck out of Loki on a semi-regular basis, mostly as a means of control. 
> 
> Warnings for this fic: the first half is pretty bloody and includes some descriptions of injury and medical treatment that might be squicky. I'd hope it isn't necessary, but in case I wasn't clear - this isn't what a healthy, functional BDSM relationship looks like. Neither of these people are role models when it comes to functional relationships.
> 
> Many thanks to my inimitable [beta](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com) for her editing work, and a whole host of cheerleaders over the last three years who've kept me going. Enjoy.

Loki came to her shortly after SHIELD fell, when she was still wading through the shattered remains of all the lives she’d constructed for herself. She was packing her bags to get out of dodge, to get moving before anything caught up to her she didn’t want to face, when he appeared. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, frowning.

“What does it look like,” Natasha said flatly, not pausing. She threw another passport onto the ‘burn’ pile.

“It looks like you are running from something.” 

“Close enough,” she said, scraping the burn pile together and dropping it in the sink, where she put a lighter to it. “Suffice to say that it’s not a good time.” 

Loki’s frown deepened and he didn’t move to go. “What are you running from?” 

“That’s none of your business. We don’t do personal lives.”

“If you are in danger-”

“What,” Natasha said caustically. “You’re going to help?” Loki said nothing, and she turned to look at him. “I told you. It’s not a good time.” 

Loki narrowed his eyes. “I will not be sent away.”

“You will if I say so,” Natasha said. “It’s not up to you. So turn around and go. I’m busy.” 

Loki took a step toward her. “Our agreement-”

“Doesn’t mean I’m beholden to you,” Natasha said. “You’re forgetting who owns who, here, aren’t you?” 

Loki jerked back, something flickering through his expression too quick to catch. “Don’t push me,” he said, voice strained.

Natasha felt her jaw clench. “Back off. I have my own life to deal with, and you’re a complication I don’t have the time for. I’m not at your beck and call. Is that clear?” 

Loki’s expression flickered again, and he shifted back slightly, posture changing. “Natasha,” he said, voice less aggressive. “I do not ask you lightly. I need…”

“Didn’t you hear me? _No._ ”

“Then later. Tell me when-”

Natasha dug her fingers into her temples. “Shut up.”

“I am _asking-_ ”

“ _Shut up._ ” She couldn’t. She didn’t have time. And if anyone saw her with him… “Get out,” she snapped. “I can’t deal with your shit.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “What-”

She whirled on him. “Out!”

Loki stared at her, a strange expression on his face. Surprise, at first, but then something else, and then nothing. 

It was only when he disappeared that she realized she might have fucked up, badly. She’d let herself become Loki’s solid center. If he perceived this as a betrayal, or as a dismissal…

She didn’t think that would just come back on her. 

Natasha pushed that thought, that _dread,_ down and away. Compartmentalized it. Not now. 

She had too many other things to think about to worry about possibilities and unstable alien gods. Her own life to reconstruct. Loki was going to have to wait. 

* * *

She didn’t see Loki for three months.

The first two, Natasha hardly noticed, too busy figuring a thousand things out at once. By the third, though, when she’d begun to settle back into something like normal life, she realized how long it had been. 

Loki’s little visits had never been regular, but since they’d started this thing, whatever it was, he hadn’t gone more than a week without asking for her particular attentions. Three months was a worryingly long time. She’d cultivated dependence deliberately, made him reliant on her in order to keep him controlled, and Loki had accepted her rule like there was nothing he wanted more. She doubted he’d found someone else. Three months of silence, then, could mean a lot of very bad things. 

Natasha tried not to focus on it. There wasn’t, after all, much she could do. Either Loki would come out of the woodwork or he wouldn’t. If he did, though, and the fallout was nasty…

She added Bruce Banner and Jane Foster’s numbers to her speed dial, just in case. 

Midway through the fourth month, shutting out the lights in her living room before bed, there was a loud thump on Natasha’s door, followed by silence. Natasha stared at it for a few moments, then silently crossed the room to the drawer where one of her guns was stashed. She removed it slowly, keeping her eyes on the door, but no one tried to break through and there were no further sounds. The skin between her shoulder blades prickled. 

After a long moment, gun in hand and braced for anything, she moved over to the door and opened it, standing to the side behind the wall. It swung inward, something dropping from leaning on the door to the floor with a heavy thump. It took her a moment to recognize it as a body, and another to recognize who. 

She kept the gun aimed even as she dropped down, glancing briefly through the door to check the hallway. Empty. “Loki?” She said, lowly. He didn’t so much as twitch. She reached out with one hand, keeping her other on the gun, and prodded his shoulder. 

Still nothing. He was lying half curled up on his side and there was blood smeared down her doorway. 

It could be a ruse. Natasha didn’t think so. Loki didn’t tend to go for ruses that made him look vulnerable. She didn’t think he was going to start now. 

“Fuck,” she said under her breath, but she hooked her hands under his arms and dragged him inside. Blood smeared on the floor, too, and when she pulled him away from where he’d been lying there was a definite…puddle. _Not good._ Conspicuous, not to mention losing that quantity of blood probably wasn’t good for anyone, even a near immortal alien. 

Natasha grabbed two towels out of the laundry, threw one down on the floor like a welcome mat and closed the door. It would have to do for the moment. Then she turned to Loki. _First step: assess._ She checked his head and neck, and if there was blood in his hair and a few nasty, swelling bruises on his face, most of the blood seemed to come from a shallow cut on his forehead and his skull and spine seemed intact. He was breathing in shallow, irregular bursts but he was breathing clearly, so lungs probably weren’t punctured, at least. 

She moved down and found what she was looking for. A deep, ugly slash cut across the front of his leather getup. It looked like it had gone through some of the metal as well, and Loki’s stomach was drenched in blood. Like he’d been gutted.

No, Natasha thought, gauging the depth of the wound, not _like._ Someone or something had sliced Loki open like a landed fish. She could see something glistening through the blood, pushing against the edges of the wound.

Her gorge rose. _Dissociate. Distance yourself._ It was a miracle he wasn’t dead of shock already. _Compartmentalize. If you don’t, he_ will _die._

This was above her pay grade, though. She could staunch blood and stitch minor wounds but keeping intestines on the inside and putting mangled internal organs back together was a little beyond Natasha’s skills. The sudden, sharp feeling of helplessness took her by surprise, followed by a kind of grim realization that it was entirely possible that Loki was going to die anyway, no matter what she did. 

Something about that realization made her – angry. 

“Oh no you don’t,” she muttered, pushing herself to her feet and striding over to the kitchen where she kept a few medical supplies under the sink. Old habits, even if she no longer had to avoid hospitals as a rule. She might not be able to fix all of Loki, but maybe at least she could keep him together and stop the worst of the bleeding long enough that his own healing might kick in again. If not…

She’d deal with that when she came to it. And hope whatever was chasing Loki didn’t follow him to her.

Her phone rang and Natasha jumped, then swore at herself. She glanced at the number – _Tony Stark,_ it said – and hesitated. It could be an emergency, and if she didn’t answer that would probably set off alarms somewhere. She looked at her bloody hands, then Loki, and picked up the phone, answering it and tucking it under her ear as she returned to Loki’s side and began trying to clear away some of the blood to get a better view. 

“-tasha!” She caught, through the phone. “Thank Jesus, I wanted to tell you – Loki was just here.”

Natasha stiffened. Had this been – no, the Iron Man suit couldn’t and didn’t do this kind of damage. “Here? At the Tower?” 

“Yes, at the Tower,” Tony said. He sounded freaked out, though like he was trying to keep his cool. “Looked – not good, wounded, bleeding a lot. I didn’t catch what happened-”

“If this isn’t an emergency, Tony,” Natasha interrupted, tearing open a sterile needle package with her teeth, “then it’s going to have to wait. I’m a little busy.” 

“I don’t know if it’s an emergency,” Tony said. “It’s just – he was asking for you. Where you were.” Natasha’s hands stilled for a moment. “So I thought you should know you know who was looking for you for some ungodly reason-”

_Looks like you found me,_ Natasha thought to Loki’s limp body. “I can take care of myself, Tony,” she said, trying to sound reassuring. “Thanks for passing the message on.” 

“You’re…welcome? You don’t sound alarmed about this-”

“You didn’t _tell_ him where to find me, right? I can take care of myself,” Natasha repeated, and hung up. She needed both her hands for this. 

She wondered how many places Loki had gone looking for her. How many of the old safe houses that he knew had he checked, before he’d found her here…somehow. How? If he’d used his magic, why not do so before? She pushed that question aside for later. If Loki survived she could ask him, and if he didn’t…

Natasha pushed that thought aside too. _Compartmentalize._

She had a god to stitch together. 

* * *

Loki stirred, beginning to wake with a low groan while Natasha was still only about midway through putting him back together. “Hold still,” Natasha said flatly. “I’m still trying to make sure your intestines are back in the right place.” 

Loki’s eyelids fluttered, but whether he heard her and understood or was simply still too out of it and in pain to move, he otherwise held still. Natasha had been focused on the parts of him that were bleeding, but she took a moment to glance at his face. Loki really did look wretched – not just the translucent, pale grey cast to his skin that spoke of blood loss, or the sheen of sweat from pain and shock, but the newly sharp angles of his cheekbones and the bruise-like shadows under his eyes. He looked like the footage of when he’d first landed on Earth, back during the invasion. 

Wherever Loki had been, it didn’t look like it had been good for him. 

Natasha muttered under her breath and reached for the scissors to cut another stitch, keeping a half an eye on Loki’s face to see if he responded further. His eyes opened to slits, the blue-green so dark it was almost black. “You’re in one of my safe houses,” Natasha said, in case he was disoriented. 

Loki’s eyes closed again. The rhythm of his breathing had shifted, though, shallower and tight with pain. “Is there anything I can give you to take the edge off?” Natasha asked, still keeping her tone flat. Loki didn’t answer, which might have been because he wasn’t conscious enough to understand or because he didn’t want to talk. “I expected you to come back,” Natasha continued, looking back down at her bloody hands pushing the needle through his flesh, “but I admit I didn’t think it would look like this.” She wasn’t sure if she was talking for his benefit or hers. 

“Did not…intend to.” Loki’s voice was slurred and almost unintelligible, but she could still make out the words. Natasha kept herself from tensing, or indeed responding at all. 

“I figured,” Natasha said. Loki liked to pretend he still dictated the terms of their…agreement. He wouldn’t have come to her this physically weak if there were alternatives. “Ran into something you couldn’t handle, hm?” 

Loki’s stomach muscles tensed and Natasha stopped. “Relax,” she said sternly. “This is already ugly work. Don’t make it uglier.” 

It took a moment, but he obeyed, relaxing with what must have been an effort. She could hear his breathing stutter with what had to be incredible pain. There was a fresh sheen of sweat on his face and Natasha could see his jaw flexing. She stopped and sat up. “Do you want me to knock you out?” She asked. “The hard way, since I doubt the amount of sedative I have on hand will do it for you.” 

Loki licked his lips and swallowed, plainly hesitating. His breathing was shallow and quick and Natasha was half tempted to just do it without his permission. “No,” he rasped, though, and Natasha nodded. 

“Fine,” she said, and returned to her triage. She itched to ask him who he’d pissed off that had tried to rip out his entrails, but she thought that was probably too much for Loki to focus on right now. Simple, then. “Where were you?” 

“Does it – _nnh._ Does it – matter?” His voice sounded brittle and bitter. So he was still stinging from what he undoubtedly saw as her rejection. Natasha wasn’t exactly surprised. 

“Yes,” she said simply. Another stitch done. 

“I was – was here. And there.” Still alert enough to evade, Natasha thought. She was almost impressed.

“Is anyone going to follow you here?” 

“Nnn – no. They do not – know about you.” Loki sounded almost proud, and Natasha paused, faint surprise breaking through her shell of calm. She pushed it away for later, but did let one of her hands rest lightly on Loki’s stomach for a moment. 

“Good,” she said, letting her tone be one of praise, and a little tension visibly bled out of Loki’s body. _Still yours,_ a small voice at the back of Natasha’s mind murmured, satisfied, and she felt a slight uneasy squirm in her stomach in response. Was this about her? She wondered. She couldn’t see any obvious signs of torture – you didn’t go straight for disemboweling during an interrogation – but Natasha knew that didn’t necessarily mean anything, especially not with Loki’s rapid healing. More questions to ask later. 

Loki shuddered very slightly, fingers twitching on the floor. “You don’t do things by halves, do you,” Natasha murmured, refocusing her attention on the stitches. 

“I am – am sorry,” Loki said, his voice fracturing. His head lolled to the side, and he sucked in a shallow gasp of a breath. Natasha waited, but he didn’t clarify. 

“Sorry?” She prompted, but Loki appeared to be slipping back under. Natasha sighed and let her fingers (gloved and slippery with blood) brush the back of one of his hands. Even through the latex his skin felt alarmingly cold. “Loki,” she said, making her voice a little firmer. “Focus. Are you going to be able to heal from this?”

Loki’s nod was juddery and his eyes didn’t open, but it was a nod. “All right,” Natasha said. “Then relax. You can pass out if you need to.” Loki mumbled something that didn’t sound like it was in English and went limp like death. Natasha had to check the thready pulse in his neck to be sure he was still alive. 

Thirty six stitches in all. She counted all of them. It was ugly, skin red and inflamed and puckered around the edges, but Loki’s insides were on the inside and he was still breathing. Natasha poured most of a bottle of rubbing alcohol over her work, stripped off her gloves, and cracked open a different bottle of alcohol to pour herself a half-glass. 

She didn’t indulge often, but now felt like the time. She looked at Loki, sprawled on her floor in the middle of a carnage of towels and bandages. His blood was going to be worked into the floorboards – probably forever. It was under her fingernails and soaked into her nail beds. 

Natasha washed her hands and went and got a blanket from the closet, draping it over Loki’s body. She wasn’t about to try to lift him onto a bed or a couch. After a moment’s consideration she removed the scissors from reach, just in case, and took herself to her couch, weighing her options. In the end, though – she didn’t really want to turn Loki over to the Avengers, and if there was still a SHIELD it lacked the infrastructure to handle him. She was still on her own. 

“You might not be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, but you’re likely the most inconvenient,” Natasha said blandly to Loki’s unconscious form. He didn’t answer, and Natasha sighed and went to fetch a book. She didn’t want to go to sleep until she knew a little more about the situation. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Loki didn’t wake at all, though at some point around 2 am he moved from unconsciousness to sleep, as was clear from his sudden agitation and restlessness. Natasha moved from the couch and put a hand on his chest, which seemed to soothe the worst of it. Natasha tried not to read into that too much. 

Around dawn he did wake up with a gurgling sort of moan, and for a moment from the look on his face Natasha thought Loki might rip his insides open again trying to vomit. It subsided, though, Loki’s gaze focusing on her slowly and hazily. 

“Morning, sunshine,” she drawled. One of his hands moved slowly, groping up until he found the line of stitches. He jerked his hand away with a hiss the moment he brushed them. “I told you they’d be ugly,” Natasha said. “Right now they’re also swollen. So don’t touch.”

“I am still alive,” Loki said. He sounded a little surprised. 

“Despite what looked like your best efforts,” Natasha said dryly. Loki’s eyes closed. 

“You did not let me die.” That was definitely surprise. Natasha tried not to flinch, or to be stung. She would have been tempted to slap him, under other circumstances.

“No,” she said flatly. “I didn’t. Why come to me if you assumed that would be my reaction?” 

“Where else would I go?” Loki’s lips quirked, very faintly. “Better to die on your doorstep than anywhere else.”

_You could’ve gone to Thor,_ she might have said, and was tempted to say if only to get a reaction from him. “And why would I let you die?” She said coldly. “I don’t remember that being part of our deal.”

“Our…deal appeared to be off.” Loki opened his eyes to slivers. Natasha pulled away and stood up. 

“Did I say that?” 

A faint frown line appeared between Loki’s eyebrows. “Not in so many words, but-”

“I told you I needed space. And time.” And she hadn’t done it very tactfully, but she wasn’t going to beat herself up about that. “And in your head, that equals that I’d let you die. Interesting.” 

The frown line deepened. “You are offended.” 

“No,” Natasha said, though what she thought was _yes, I’m offended!_ “I’m just getting straight where there was some miscommunication.” 

“You are offended that I thought you would let me die,” Loki said slowly. “Hasn’t that always been part of the bargain? That if it were necessary-”

“If it were necessary,” Natasha interrupted. “Not ‘if you turn up a gutted mess’.” She sighed and made a disgusted noise. “I’m not going to have this argument with someone who can’t even sit up and whose insides are still probably fifty percent shredded.”

Loki responded to that, as she probably should have guessed he would, by trying to sit up. He didn’t get much further than his elbows before dropping back with a whimper of pain. Natasha just looked at him, keeping her expression stony and unimpressed. After a moment his eyes closed. “I do not mean to sound ungrateful.” His voice was strained, clearly in pain. “I…do appreciate your assistance.” 

“Glad to hear it.” Natasha considered for a moment and then relented, slightly, adding, “You startled Stark pretty badly.” 

“Please do not ask me to…apologize to him.” One of Loki’s eyes opened. “I did not intend to go there.” 

“Well, now you’ve got him wondering – and worried. He called me while I was patching you up.” The frown line appeared again, after having faded. “All in all – this hasn’t been one of your finer moments.” 

Loki laughed, though it quickly turned into a cough and a grimace of pain. “You have no idea.”

Natasha looked for the couch and sat down, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. “Is now a good time to ask what the hell happened?” 

She could see Loki’s face shut down and close off. It was something she hadn’t seen him do that obviously for a while. “I daresay - that conversation can – wait.” 

“What if I said that it couldn’t,” Natasha said. She could see Loki tense, though a moment later he had to relax as it pulled at his stitches. She wondered if she could get a large quantity of prescription strength painkillers without drawing attention to herself, and then pushed the thought away. Maybe if he asked. 

“Is that an order, Lady Romanova?” 

After a moment, Natasha sighed. “No,” she said. “Not yet. But you _are_ going to tell me. Sooner or later. And when you do, I expect it to be the truth.”

“When do I tell you anything but,” Loki said. She couldn’t actually tell from the tone of his voice if he was being mocking or not, and decided not to call him on it. 

“I’m going to get you some ice chips to suck on,” she said. “Do you think your digestive system can handle that?” 

Loki appeared to be genuinely considering that question. Natasha did not want to think about how it might feel to be awake and aware with half your guts still probably in pieces. “Yes,” he said finally. “I think…so.” 

“Should I bring a bucket?” She asked bluntly. Brief nausea flashed across Loki’s face but he shook his head no. Natasha got up and brought back a cup of crushed ice, handed it to Loki. His fingers trembled a little when he took it, tipping a little into his mouth and sucking on them. The look of bliss that transformed his features was almost embarrassing. 

“Thank you,” he said, after he’d swallowed. He spoke the words awkwardly, not quite looking at her, but he still spoke them. “I will…be able to leave you soon. If you wish.”

Natasha crossed her legs and let her hands rest loosely in her lap. “Where will you go?” Loki went quiet and Natasha nodded. “You can stay here for a while. Nobody visits this house.”

The way Loki looked at her, even with his eyes mostly closed, gaze raw and half disbelieving, hurt more than Natasha would have expected. She was beginning to realize how little it meant that Loki had come here. Whatever she had managed to build…she still had a hold on him, perhaps, but whatever fragile trust there had been was gone. “You do not need-”

“Of course I don’t need,” Natasha interrupted. “Remember who you’re talking to. I’m not offering. I’m telling you.” It wasn’t exactly…she probably shouldn’t have leveraged her power that way, but the way Loki relented after only a moment’s hesitation made it worth it. 

“If it is your will, then,” he said. He took another few ice chips, again with that painfully blissful expression that tugged awfully at a part of Natasha. 

“It is.” She eyed him. “Do you think you can get up if I supported you? You’d probably be more comfortable on the couch.” She didn’t think trying to make it all the way to the bed would end well.

Loki seemed to be mulling that question over carefully. “Perhaps,” he said, sounding a little doubtful. 

“I think we should try.” Natasha shifted to her knees. “Move slowly. And stop me if it gets too much.”

It was the most painful four feet Natasha had ever moved in her life, but they made it. Loki, of course, didn’t ask to stop once, even when he was clearly in immense amounts of pain. At the end, Loki collapsed onto the couch, breathing hard, and put a shaking hand over his eyes. Natasha pushed down the vague, nonspecific feeling of guilt and brought him the ice chips. "Open your mouth,” she said, and when he did placed a piece of ice gently on his tongue. 

“Do you not have better things to do than nursemaid me?” Loki asked. His voice was tight with pain again. Natasha wondered if a triple dose of morphine would do anything for him. 

“Maybe,” she said quietly. “Isn’t that my call?” She fed Loki another ice chip. 

“I suppose it is,” Loki murmured. He sounded like he was drifting again. She supposed she couldn’t be surprised. 

“You can rest more if you need to,” she said. The gentleness in her own voice surprised her. “You’re safe here.”

“I can almost believe that,” Loki murmured, the words barely intelligible. Natasha didn’t answer, and only minutes later she heard his breathing shift into the rhythm of shallow, pain-filled sleep. 

* * *

Natasha drifted off without meaning to, but when she woke Loki was still out. She got up and moved into the kitchen, making herself a simple breakfast as quietly as she could before checking her phone. No messages – so Tony had decided not to raise the alarm more broadly, or Clint would’ve called by now. She eyed the most recent texts from Sam and Steve before setting the phone back down and returning with her bowl of cereal to the living room. 

Loki’s eyes opened to very narrow slits. “N’tasha,” he said. She raised her eyebrows in his direction and waited, but he didn’t say anything further. 

“I’m right here,” she said finally. Loki seemed to relax, eyes closing again. She frowned and sat down. 

This whole situation was…messy. Natasha was used to messy, but that didn’t mean she liked it. This thing with her and Loki…she’d been fine leaving it vague, but that wasn’t going to work anymore. 

She wasn’t looking forward to trying to have that conversation.

Finishing her cereal, Natasha got up again to pull off the bandaging over the stitches. Some of the swelling had gone down, though the wound still looked ugly as hell. There was nothing yellow or green on the bandage, though, and a quick sniff only revealed the smell of blood and alcohol. So it wasn’t going septic, at least. “You’re lucky,” she murmured to Loki. 

“That is one thing I would not call myself,” he mumbled. Natasha’s head jerked up. Loki’s eyes were still closed, but he was clearly awake. 

“No?” She asked, after a moment. “You’re alive. You managed to find me in spite of what should have been possible. You seem to be managing to mend nicely from being disemboweled. Both of those sound lucky to me.”

Loki’s lips twitched very slightly. “I suppose when you put it that way. But I do not…feel terribly lucky at the moment.” 

“If I stack a dose of painkillers high enough will it work on you?” Natasha asked bluntly. Loki shrugged. 

“It is possible. I would not know how high it should be, however.” He sounded more coherent than he had the day before, his voice a little clearer – but that might well mean he was more aware of the pain, too. Natasha frowned, then shook her head. 

“Probably shouldn’t risk it. An overdose of ibuprofen can be nasty, and anything stronger than that is even nastier. If you can tolerate it…”

“I can tolerate it.” Though Natasha had no doubt it was taking a toll. 

She paused, and then said, “just think of it as a punishment. From me, for dropping in on me like this.”

Loki grunted. “I would find that more appealing with the promise of something else at the end for enduring such a trial.” His smile was strained. Natasha shook her head, almost impressed. 

“I don’t make promises,” she said. “At least not that kind.”

“Ah well,” Loki said. “Pity.”

“Maybe you can distract yourself,” Natasha said, “by telling me what the hell happened to you.”

If there had been any lightness in Loki’s expression, it was gone now. “Is that necessary?” 

“I’ve already told you that it is. What did you get yourself into this time?” 

Loki said nothing for several moments, breathing quietly though with a touch of strain. Natasha braced herself to ask again, to push harder, but after a while he sighed. “I suppose I cannot humiliate myself before you any worse than I already have.” 

Natasha leaned forward, made herself smile and touched her voice with irony. “What, are you telling me your new dom did this to you?” 

“After a fashion, yes.”

Natasha stared at him. She was tempted to accuse Loki of lying, or maybe joking, but she couldn’t see the point of this lie and he didn’t sound like he was joking. She _was_ surprised by a faint twinge of jealousy. Faint, it was true, but it shouldn’t have been there at all. “After a fashion. What kind of fashion?” 

“This-” Loki gestured at himself- “Is not our usual kind of play. In fact, I daresay it suggests the termination of our relationship. And not all of it was her hand.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?” 

Loki made a sound like choking. “Always the first question, isn’t it? _What did you do._ Because it must have been something that I did, to _deserve_ this.”

“I didn’t say you deserved it,” Natasha said. “But if you were seeing someone and she turned on you…there must have been a reason.”

“She received a better offer.” Loki’s eyes closed. “There are certain parties with whom my sorry carcass can earn a handsome price.” Natasha felt the back of her neck prickle. Whatever Loki was sidestepping around – the fact that he was sidestepping around it at all made her nervous. 

“Are you going to name names?” 

“No,” Loki said. “Names have – summoning power. It does not do to draw his attention.” His lips twitched at the corners. “More than I already have, that is.” He looked a little like he might vomit, and Natasha braced to move out of the way, but it seemed to pass. 

“So this was about…giving you up to someone,” Natasha said slowly. “Who you won’t name. And this woman you took up with…”

“Was working with him. Perhaps for…some time.” Loki’s lips quirked a little more. “I have been…very foolish, Agent Romanov.”

“No kidding,” Natasha said dryly. 

“She fulfilled a need,” Loki said. “I should have expected it. This particular…lady…has never had much affection for me.”

Natasha felt a strange, slightly unquiet feeling in her stomach. “You couldn’t choose a dom that didn’t hate you?” She asked, making her voice light. Loki chuckled at the back of his throat. 

“Of course not. Then why would they hurt me?” 

Natasha sat back. “Go to sleep,” she said, maybe a little roughly. 

“I just woke,” Loki objected, looking faintly confused. 

“Go to sleep anyway,” she said, and stood up, walking away where he couldn’t see her and then stopping, rubbing her hands on her thighs, an uneasy churn in his stomach. She’d known that what they were doing wasn’t exactly _safe, sane and consensual,_ known that Loki’s _I don’t have limits_ was dangerous, but it hadn’t really mattered. Except-

Except. _This is wrong._ The thought was hitting her now, making her feel vaguely ill. It wasn’t like she hadn’t _known_ but it hadn’t mattered and now, somehow, it did. When Loki was back in one piece, they were going to have to have a conversation. She didn’t think either of them was going to enjoy it. 

* * *

Loki woke her up in the middle of the night howling. 

In this building no one would ask questions, but Natasha still swore fluently in more than one language as she stumbled down the hall from her bedroom to the living room and grabbed Loki’s shoulder, digging her nails into his flesh. “Loki,” she said sharply, and skipped back when he woke up with a snarl and went for her throat. “It’s me,” she said to his luminous and wild gaze. 

“Amora,” He said, voice rough like someone had been strangling him and thick with anger.

Natasha blinked for a moment before saying, “Natasha. Remember?” 

_Amora,_ she tucked away. Not a name she’d heard before. Loki’s eyes cleared slowly, and a moment later she saw him raise one shaking hand, only to let it fall. “The light…”

She reached out and flicked it on. Loki flinched, very slight and brief but still perceptible, and looked at her for a long moment, his chest rising and falling in very quick and shallow breaths. Slowly, he started to relax. The bandaging on his stomach was spotted red again. 

“You were dreaming,” Natasha said flatly, and unnecessarily. “Woke me up.” 

Loki exhaled a rough laugh. “Evidently. I would not expect you to linger by my bedside and…” He trailed off, apparently still not entirely awake. He pressed a hand over his eyes, his other hand balled into a fist. Natasha reached out, slowly, and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, pressing them against the side of the tendon standing out there. 

“Loki,” she said, keeping her voice quiet and level. “It’s over.”

“Is it?” Loki said, oddly, but a moment later he relaxed, very slightly and slowly. His hand stayed over his eyes, but his clenched fist loosened. “My apologies. For waking you.”

“No need,” Natasha said after a moment. “I sleep lightly.”

“I am sure you do.” Loki started to push himself up only to stop and close his eyes, sucking in a sharp breath. Natasha watched him, waiting, and exhaled in very slight relief when he relaxed back down, not opening his eyes. “You…left in rather a rush. Earlier. Did I say…”

“Are you asking if you upset me?” Natasha made her voice deliberately incredulous. Loki said nothing for several moments. She could see him wrestling with how to answer best, his brain moving more slowly than usual. 

“If I have, I should not want to pay for it later.” 

“Mm. When you make me angry I don’t usually hide it, do I?” She thought she kept her voice neutral, but she caught the slight hitch and pause in Loki’s breathing. “You did not, in answer to your non-question.”

“I do not believe you.” 

Natasha let the silence hang for a couple of moments before she said, “oh?” Very coolly. 

She heard Loki swallow and knew that had been unfair, but at the same time wanting to know…she wasn’t sure. Wanting to know. “You do not normally flee a conversation like that.”

_Flee,_ she could have objected, but didn’t. “I don’t think this is a conversation we should have now.” 

Loki’s mouth tightened. “While I am a helpless invalid?” 

“Yeah,” Natasha said, refusing to respond in kind. “Something like that.”

“And if I insist?” 

Natasha raised her eyebrows at him and Loki looked away. She sat down, though, with a sigh. “So – this Amora. You went to her to satisfy what you usually get from me. Is that right?” 

Loki hesitated. “Yes,” he said, almost defiantly. 

“And before me,” she said, “you’ve done the same thing with other people, I’m guessing?” Loki’s eyes skated away from her, and Natasha moved to catch them. “Answer the question.”

“Yes,” Loki said, finally. Grudgingly. 

“And did you…have a relationship, of any kind, with any of them, that wasn’t based on animosity?” Loki’s silence said enough. Natasha squeezed her eyes closed. “And did any of them ever – hurt you, more than you wanted? In ways you didn’t like?” _Did I,_ she thought, and wondered why that should bother her _now._

Because she’d thought this was something they’d both agreed to. Walked into with open eyes and an understanding. But it turned out that Loki had been understanding something completely different.

“If I did not enjoy what you did I would not allow it,” Loki said, after a brief hesitation.

“I don’t think that’s true.” Natasha pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. “And doesn’t answer the question.”

Again, the silence, however brief it was, spoke volumes. “Rarely,” he said, finally. “But sometimes. That is – that is just part of the game.”

“No,” she said sharply. “It isn’t.” Natasha made a fist and pounded it against her thigh. No wonder he’d been so quick to assume that she’d dropped him entirely. No wonder he’d rebounded to some asshole he’d known wouldn’t be good for him. Because apparently in Loki’s head the only way he could get what he wanted was from people who wanted him to suffer and didn’t believe in limits. Loki had said he didn’t need a safe word, way back at the beginning, and she’d accepted that. _Is there anything you wouldn’t let me do to you,_ she’d teased, a razor close to his cock, and Loki had shuddered and breathed _no, anything,_ and she wondered if he’d half expected-

Loki’s eyebrows furrowed. “Look,” Natasha said. “Isn’t – isn’t _anyone_ into kink on Asgard?” Loki looked blank. “Do you have the idea of _consent?_ ” She asked, almost horrified that the answer would be _no,_ but Loki looked offended. 

“Don’t be insulting,” he said. “Of course. I did not understand the first question.” 

Natasha grimaced. This was not a conversation she wanted to be having in the middle of the night with Loki probably still regrowing organs. She was in it now, though. “Like what you and me do. Painplay, bondage, knifeplay...” 

“Oh,” Loki said, in dawning comprehension. “Of course there are. There are even…establishments where they congregate. I have never – _been_ to one, of course. Filthy, low places.” There it was, Natasha thought. The scorn. Easy to turn that inward. Punish yourself for wanting punishment. The only way for that to work…

Natasha stood up abruptly, feeling nauseous. Loki’s frown deepened. “What…?”

“On Earth,” she interrupted, “when people. When they’re into kinky stuff. Especially stuff that might be dangerous. There’s all kinds of rules and boundaries that get set up, to keep everyone involved safe.”

Loki twitched. “I do not-”

“Want _safe,_ I know,” Natasha said. “But me, hurting you in a way you don’t want? That’s – not something _I’m_ good with.”

Loki stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “It isn’t?” He said. Sounding honestly surprised. 

“No,” she said, trying not to sound angry. “It isn’t.” How often, she wondered, had she crossed that line between pleasurable pain into just pain, how often cut too deep or pushed too far? And she hadn’t picked up on the fact that when Loki said _I don’t have limits_ what he meant was _I am not allowed limits._

“Romanova?” Loki sounded concerned. 

“Just a minute,” she said. “Just…give me a minute.” She didn’t know how to have this conversation. Especially not with someone who didn’t even seem to have a concept of safe, sane, and consensual. Who definitely thought the first two were optional. She paced over to the fridge, paced back and sat down. “Let me put it this way. We made a bargain, right? That you’d stay away from my friends and not cause trouble, and I’d give you what you need: pain and someone else taking control.” She kept her words blunt and simple and saw Loki almost flinch. “Do I have that right?”

“Yes,” Loki said, sounding cautious. 

“For me,” she said, and then paused. “For me, that kind of agreement implies…it doesn’t mean I get to do whatever I want. It means I do what I want _within the bounds_ of what _you_ want. I thought you knew that. I assumed if I pushed too hard that you’d _tell_ me. But you’re saying…” She trailed off, and gestured at him. “If I’d done something like this to you. Would you have told me to stop?” Loki hesitated, and Natasha’s stomach sank. “Tell the truth,” she said anyway. 

“No,” Loki said at length, and then added, “because it would be your _right._ I would not need you to-”

“But is it something that you need?” Natasha asked, interrupting. “Getting this beat up – is it good for you? Because it isn’t for me. I’m not actually into purposeless suffering.”

“Who said it was purposeless?” Loki’s eyes wouldn’t lock on her. “You have never argued that I do not _deserve-_ ”

“Does this help anyone?” Natasha interrupted sharply. “Does it help you? Because I can tell you pretty confidently it doesn’t help anyone you _hurt._ They’re not going to feel any better because somewhere you’re getting your guts ripped out. And you said you’ve done this before. Was it about deserving it then? For what?” She already knew, though, didn’t she: he’d said it before. _Because of what I am._

Loki swallowed, eyes skittering away from her, and she leaned forward. “Loki, look at me.” 

He didn’t want to, she could tell. But he did it. “At a certain point,” she went on, quieter, “you don’t want it any more. And that’s when it stops. Because past that it’s just torture, and that’s not what I want. And I don’t think it’s what you do either.”

Loki’s eyes closed and he breathed in, shuddering. Natasha ran her fingers through her hair, heart thudding in her stomach. “We don’t have to talk about this more right now. You should be resting, and I should check your bandages.”

Loki’s tongue flickered across his dry lips. “Do you,” he began, and then stopped. His head turned away from her, even with his eyes closed. “Do you not. Want me to suffer?”

And wasn’t _that_ a complicated question. Natasha sighed. “Yes,” she said. “And also no. It’s complicated. But if you’re asking if I would do _this_ to you – no. I wouldn’t.” Loki shuddered again, but this time he didn’t say anything. Natasha closed her own eyes for a count of three, and then got up. “You should go back to sleep,” she said. “I’m going to make some coffee and stay up. I’ll change your dressings in the morning.”

Loki didn’t reply. Natasha rubbed her hands on her thighs and gave up. This had never been a _safe, sane, healthy_ relationship. Was she really going to try to make it one now?

Yeah, it seemed like she might.

* * *

Natasha played 2048 and ignored Loki until his breathing evened out either in unconsciousness or sleep, then stood up and paced. This wasn’t a _sustainable relationship,_ she reminded herself. This was a _means of control._ Sure, maybe she’d gotten…attached. That was a risk she’d taken willingly. But-

_It’s not for him, it’s for me,_ Natasha reminded herself. Which was true, as far as it went. What she’d said to Loki…she wasn’t into pain for pain’s sake. If she’d wanted to she could’ve shattered Loki more than once before, but she’d always held back from that edge, for whatever reason unwilling to ruin him completely. 

She glanced over at Loki, his skin still ashy and breathing shallow. An odd flare of anger bloomed in her stomach for all the people over the years, at least some of whom must have recognized the danger, and none of whom had apparently sat down and told Loki that being into pain and submission didn’t mean submitting to whatever pain someone doled out. That saying yes didn’t mean saying yes to everything.

Well, she thought grimly, apparently it was down to her. How about that. 

Loki slept mostly soundly through the night, stirring a few times with restless, unhappy noises but, thankfully, no more full on screaming. At some point she’d also need to pry more out of him about what had happened, who exactly he’d been handed over to and whether they were a threat Earth needed to be concerned about. Maybe she should just have Loki make a list of his enemies and cross-reference it with a list of likely possible enemies of the Avengers. 

“Water,” was the first thing Loki said when he woke up. 

“Do you have a full set of intestines again?” She asked. Loki went a shade paler, but jerked his chin in a nod, so she got him a cup of ice and started peeling the dressing off. Loki put a hand over his eyes. 

“Out of curiosity,” Natasha said. “How far _did_ Amora go before she turned you over to the other guy you won’t name?” The wound looked at least to her like it was healing well. Natasha was almost jealous. But the harsh edge on Loki’s breathing reminded her that the price was having to do this without any painkillers whatsoever; that mitigated the jealousy some. 

“It is…blurry,” Loki said, after a moment. Natasha pressed her lips together. 

“It doesn’t seem a little weird to you that it’d be hard to draw a line between what was – sexy fun and what was torture and betrayal?” Loki’s eyes flickered away. She sat back. “Or was that the point? Were you trying to get yourself killed?” 

He’d been there before. Maybe was a little bit there all the time. Natasha knew that – it was one of the dangers she had to watch out for. If _that_ was his rebound-

“No,” Loki said defensively. She just looked at him, and he shifted. “Not – as such.”

“You knew it was a risk and decided to take it,” Natasha translated. Loki didn’t nod, but she didn’t need him to. She reached out and hooked her finger into the chain she hadn’t failed to notice he was still wearing. “Remember this?” Loki said nothing, and she gave it a light tug. “You belong to me. And that means you don’t quit until I say you can.”

It was a risk, using her power like that. Right now it seemed like a worthwhile one. 

“Understood,” Loki said finally, quietly, and Natasha hoped her relief wasn’t visible. He was quiet, and so was she, for several long moments. 

“Why does it bother you so much?” He asked eventually. “What Amora did? Her actions do not reflect on you. And you cannot say it is qualms about torture.” 

_I can say it’s qualms about someone having their guts ripped out still living,_ Natasha thought, but she kept that to herself. “Except you apparently think I’d do the same thing.” 

“It would be your right more than hers,” Loki said. Natasha’s stomach turned a little. 

“My _right,_ ” she said in disgust. “So it’d be justified, because-? Never mind. Don’t answer that.” She made a noise back in her throat. “It _bothers_ me because it disgusts me.” Loki went rigid, and she went on before he could interrupt. “It disgusts me that, no matter what you say about _consent,_ apparently no one ever thought to mention to you that consent still matters when you’re asking someone to hurt you. It disgusts me that I could have – have? – done something you didn’t want and you didn’t tell me to stop because you didn’t think you had the _right._ And it disgusts me that you can’t tell the _difference_ between torture and sex because apparently for you there _isn’t_ one.” 

Loki blinked at her like she was speaking a strange language, and Natasha resisted the urge to strangle him. He’d let her, too. She remembered last time she had. He’d stopped her before it’d gone too far, but she’d tested it because she hadn’t quite believed he would. 

She’d known, even then, that she was walking a dangerous line. But she hadn’t thought about what it might mean. Not really.

“And you assumed it was the same for me,” Natasha said, forcing her voice to a more moderate tone. “Because, well. Why wouldn’t you? Apparently that’s just how you do things.” She rubbed her eyes and grimaced. “Christ.”

Loki still looked uncertain, off-balance. Natasha studied him, trying to decide if she should wait for him to heal a little more or start now, when she might have a better time keeping him from derailing the conversation. 

“We need to talk,” she said. Loki’s expression turned wary at once. 

“Why do I have a feeling I will not like this,” he said. 

“You’re smart.” Natasha kept herself still, not giving in to the urge to fidget. “Even if you don’t act like it.” She exhaled. “We need to talk about this. You and me. And reassess.” 

Loki’s nostrils flared. “You made your opinion clear,” he said stiffly. “There is no need to reiterate it.” 

“Apparently I didn’t,” Natasha said, pinching the bridge of her nose briefly. “I told you to get out while I put my life back together. _You_ took that as me cutting you out. That wasn’t what I was doing.” Loki’s expression turned slightly sullen, and Natasha fixed him with stare. “Yeah, maybe I wasn’t all that nice about it. But I wouldn’t expect that to scare _you_ off.” That made him stiffen again, but the sullen expression eased a little. 

“Then what do you mean, ‘reassess,’” he said. Natasha leaned back, resting her weight on her hands. 

“Do you remember what I said the first time?” She said. “When you were trying to get me to kill you?” Loki stared at her. “That I’m not your executioner,” she reminded him. “That you don’t get to use me as a weapon.”

Loki’s expression flickered. “I do not see you as that.”

_What do you see me as,_ she thought, but she didn’t really think either of them wanted that question asked. “No,” she said. “You just think poorly enough of me that I’d let you die on my doorstep.” She shook her head. “That’s not the point. The point is that you think this-” she gestured at him, prone and pale and still mostly immobile. “-is acceptable. Is how this kind of thing works. And maybe it did, but not anymore.”

“You will forgive me if I am not following,” Loki said slowly. Natasha blew out a breath. 

“Somehow I’m guessing you’ve never heard of kink negotiation,” she said, more to herself than anything. The way Loki stared at her answered that question, and Natasha had to stand and pace. She couldn’t believe she was trying to have this conversation. “You said you don’t have boundaries. Limits.” 

“I do not,” Loki said promptly. “I don’t want-“

“I do,” Natasha said. “I have limits. No piss, no shit. No rape fantasies. Nothing medical.” She kept her eyes locked on Loki, who looked uneasy. “No means no, and stop means stop. For me _and_ for whoever I’m with.” She gestured at Loki. “Your turn.” 

Loki shook his head slowly. “You do not understand. I am not just saying – I understand what you are trying to do. But I do not _want-_ “

“Shut up,” Natasha said roughly. “I’ve pushed you too hard before. I know I have. And you _said_ as much. So, what? When, and how, and why?” Loki said nothing, his jaw setting, and Natasha leaned forward. “I’m not going to back down on this. And until you can tell me, you can _bet_ I’m not going to touch you.”

“What do you want me to say?” Loki burst out. “I don’t-“

“Permanent mutilation?” Natasha said. Loki stared at her. She could feel her mouth tightening. “Penetration with sharp objects? If I tried to fuck you with a knife-”

That got a flinch, and a quick glance away. Loki licked his lips. “That would – not be enjoyable.” 

“Good,” Natasha said, not quite savagely. “What else? What about the time you dissociated on me? What set you off then?”

Loki looked hunted, like he would’ve given anything to bolt. Maybe it was a good idea that they were having this little talk now, while he couldn’t. “I don’t know.”

“Well, until you do, I guess I’d better stay clear of anything involving knives or sensation play,” Natasha said. She didn’t _like_ doing it like this. It should be a calm conversation, both of them able to be honest and clear. She doubted that was a possibility here.

“It wasn’t that,” Loki said. “It was just – too much. Everything together. I don’t know.” 

“All right,” Natasha said. “That’s fair. You don’t always know ahead of time when something’s going to set you off. And I should’ve been watching more closely. But you – _you_ could’ve told me to stop. _Should_ have told me to stop, long before it got that far. When you don’t-” She took a harsh breath. “When you don’t, it’s as good as rape.”

That got Loki’s attention and he moved like he was going to sit up. “I wouldn’t-”

“Not you,” Natasha said, though that was interesting. “ _Me._ ”

Loki rocked back, staring at her like she’d hit him over the head. “No,” he said after a moment. “That isn’t-”

“It is,” Natasha said. “And I’d like to have a _talk_ with whoever neglected to mention any of this to you a long time ago.” 

Loki licked his lips and swallowed. “If I set limits that are too much for you-”

“I’m pretty sure you won’t,” Natasha said dryly. 

Loki’s eyes darted past her, around the room. “I would rather not…permanently lose any extremities,” he said carefully, like he thought she might consider that a bridge too far. Natasha nodded, trying to relax her expression and look encouraging. 

“Good to know. What else?”

“Much…the same as yours.” Loki twitched. “I would also rather you didn’t…blindfolds. Or close confinement.”

Natasha nodded. “That’s doable.” She sat back. “I should add something else.” 

Loki’s expression went nervous, tense. “What is that?”

“I don’t want to kill you,” she said. “So if I get close, you stop me. Got it?” Loki blinked at her again, seeming a little dazed. She waited until he nodded. Jerkily, and with a long hesitation, but he nodded. “Good,” she said. “That’s a start.” The way Loki was looking at her…she felt a little pang of guilt. Natasha grimaced. 

“I don’t actually blame you,” she said, and then paused and amended, “mostly. And I’m…sorry. For cutting you loose like I did. I needed the time, but there was a better way to go about it.”

Loki looked profoundly uncomfortable. It was interesting, she thought, that Loki didn’t like getting apologies any more than he did giving them. 

“I don’t understand,” he said slowly. “None of this – serves you. If you are…uncomfortable, you could more easily…walk away.” He didn’t like saying that. Natasha wondered how aware of it he was, how tightly she’d tied him to her. More aware than he wanted to be, was probably the answer. 

“No,” she said flatly. He opened his mouth, and she cut him off. “Don’t ask me why. I have my own reasons.” Reasons like the fact that she’d grown increasingly uneasy with the present shape of what she was doing. It’d been one thing when she’d just been using this… _thing_ to keep Loki in check. She’d taken the need in him and bent it toward her. If he were a mark, and this was a different game, this would be when she’d get the information she needed and kill him. But if she wasn’t going to do that…

She’d taken the role of Loki’s dom and used it. But now she actually had to be that. Take some responsibility.

“You should go back to sleep,” she said to Loki, who was still staring at her, looking lost. “You’re still healing.”

Natasha stood up and walked away. She expected to have to argue, but when she came back from throwing everything that had seemed salvageable in the laundry, Loki was asleep. She sat down and studied his face, still too pale and drawn with pain. 

_Are you insane?_ A voice whispered at the back of her mind. _He’s not your lover. He’s barely even your pet._ But no, definitely at least her pet. That chain around his neck that he was still wearing said as much. Maybe she’d screwed up. Gotten in over her head. Though maybe she wasn’t the only one; she doubted Loki had been planning on any of this when he’d sought her out that first time.

No, she’d made her decision. Now she was just going to have to live with it.

And with Loki, too, she thought with a grimace, but it faded fast. She should’ve caught this sooner. Or _someone_ should have. 

Somewhere back there in his past was a dom Natasha really wanted to kick in the teeth.

* * *

Natasha set an alarm for a few hours of sleep and woke up after six. When she went out to check on Loki he was still asleep himself, and if there was a faint whistle to his breathing, his color looked better. She checked the stitches and found that the swelling had gone down and the wound looked less angry. Loki woke up while she was reapplying some antibiotic ointment and groaned, twitching away from her fingers.

“Hey,” she said. “Just me. How does it feel?” 

“Like someone stuck a fork in my entrails and twirled it,” Loki said, sounding mightily annoyed. Natasha took that as a good sign and pulled back. After a moment, he added, “but…better.” 

“I’ll try not to imagine what that says about how it _did_ feel,” Natasha said dryly. “Do you think you could handle some broth? I don’t know how long it’s been since you ate anything but I think it’d be good to get something in you other than water.”

Loki grimaced a little. “The idea doesn’t…immediately make me want to vomit,” he said. “That might be as much endorsement as I can give you.”

“Looks like you slept some,” Natasha said. 

“Some,” Loki said after a moment. Not well, Natasha translated. She supposed that might actually get worse as he healed physically, when the exhaustion wouldn’t quite keep the dreams at bay. And she didn’t doubt there’d be dreams. Torture always left you with those.

She went over to the kitchen and poured some chicken broth into a saucepan. She considered adding something else to make it more interesting, but it didn’t seem worth the risk. 

“Our…conversation,” Loki said, sounding tentative. Natasha kept her back to him, figuring he’d waited until she wasn’t looking for a reason. 

“What about it?” 

“Establishing…rules. Guidelines. That makes this seem like…” He paused, trailing off. Maybe waiting for Natasha to talk so he didn’t have to fill in the rest of the sentence. She considered not making him, but decided he should have to. “Like you mean this…arrangement to be ongoing. Regular.” 

“Not regular,” Natasha said, stirring the broth even though it didn’t really need it. “I don’t want you to live here. I don’t think you want to either. But ongoing…yes. I don’t think there’s any point in pretending it’s something else.” She turned around, then, to look at him. “Up to now I’ve only been giving you half of what you need. And sometimes what you don’t.” 

Loki looked uneasy. “You have not left me unsatisfied.”

Natasha leaned back against the counter. “Afterwards,” she said. “When I finish with you. How do you feel?” Loki tensed, looking away, and she firmed her voice. “Answer me.” 

“Clean,” he said after a moment, still not looking at her. “Bled dry, but I want that.” 

“What else?” She asked. _She_ knew the answer. Right now she was just curious if Loki did. Loki hesitated again, and she crossed his arms. “Are you worried about sounding weak? Because considering what I’ve seen in the last twenty-four hours…”

Loki twitched, his voice flattening out. “Shaky. Raw. Exposed. Does it satisfy you in some way to hear me say it?” 

“A little,” Natasha said honestly, “but that’s not why I asked. You want me to pull you apart, Loki: we both know that. But you want me to put you back together, too.” Loki flinched, and she softened her voice. “If I just wanted to ruin you I could have done that. I haven’t. But I haven’t been doing the other, either.”

Loki stared at her, looking like the world was wobbling under his feet. “You hate me,” he said abruptly.

“No,” Natasha said, turning the stove off and pulling down a bowl. “As a matter of fact, I don’t.” She walked the bowl over to him. “When you heal…new game, new rules.” She pointed at the necklace she’d given him. At the time, it’d been a mixture of cruelty and kindness. “Keep that on. But I _am_ getting you a collar for when you’re with me. This whole mess proves that you need a leash to keep you from wandering into traffic.”

Loki’s jaw tightened, but he also swayed a little toward her and she heard his breath snag. Natasha smiled faintly and ran a thumb up the side of his neck. 

“Now I’m going to help you sit up a little and eat that,” she pointed at the broth, “ _very slowly._ You’ll let me know if you need a basin.” 

“Yes, Natasha,” Loki murmured meekly. When she looked at him, the corner of his mouth flickered in a very small smile that only barely touched his eyes. She’d take it. 

* * *

Tony called in the afternoon while Loki was taking a nap. 

“You’re still alive,” he said, sounding a little peeved. 

“Did something make you think I wasn’t?” 

“The total silence and abrupt hang up on me when Loki was on the loose and looking for you,” Tony said. “That seem like a good enough reason?” 

“I’ve been working,” she said, which was more or less true. “I didn’t have a lot of time to chat.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” She could hear Tony grimacing through the phone. He paused before asking, “and no sign of Loki?” 

“Don’t you think you would know if there had been?” Natasha asked, looking over at Loki on the couch. He seemed to still be breathing steadily. 

“Why do you think he was asking about you, anyway?” 

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Natasha drummed her fingers on the counter. 

“He was hurt when he turned up here,” Tony said after a pause. “Like, bad. I couldn’t exactly see but there was a lot of blood and the guy was barely upright. Think it was a trap? Playing weak?” 

“Did you have something you actually wanted to talk about or did you just call me to gossip about Loki?”

“Mostly the latter, yeah,” Tony said after a second. “You sure you don’t have any idea why Loki would be looking for you, specifically? And do we need to be worried about whatever can put someone on Loki’s level through a meat grinder?” 

_Probably._ She’d have to come back to that, eventually. Whatever the name was of the _he_ who wanted Loki, that might not have anything to do with them but they should probably know about just in case. For the rest… 

“No idea,” she lied. “He hasn’t found me. If he does, I’ll ask.” 

“You seem unnervingly not worried about this.” 

Natasha glanced over at the couch. “What good is panic going to do?”

“You could move somewhere with an actual security system.”

“I’m not moving in with you,” Natasha said. “Stop fussing. I’m fine.” 

“I could tell Clint,” Tony said. “I haven’t yet because I don’t want him to freak out, but _freaking out_ seems like a reasonable response to me in this situation.”

“Don’t,” Natasha said flatly. Eventually she’d have to figure out how to deal with Clint, but not right now. “Stop interfering, Tony. My life, my choices.” 

She hung up, annoyed, and walked over to Loki. His breathing seemed maybe a little easier, but by the way he opened his eyes with a sharp intake of breath he wasn’t exactly sleeping deeply, and when he looked at her his gaze was confused, disoriented. She pressed her hand gently down on his shoulder. 

“It’s me,” she said, keeping her voice soft and soothing. “Natasha.”

Clarity came slowly, but he didn’t lash out. He stared at her, eyes a little too wide, and Natasha found herself remembering the disaster with the drug. She didn’t want to be another torturer. 

“Focus on where you are,” she said levelly. “The way the couch feels.” She left her hand where it was, figuring the contact without pain, as long as he hadn’t lashed out yet, was probably good. “That’s it.”

He blinked slowly and licked his lips. “Natasha,” he said, still a little unsteady. She summoned as much of a smile as she could manage. 

“Yep. You’re still here.” 

“I didn’t say anything,” Loki said, eyes still wide. “I didn’t betray you. Amora asked but I wouldn’t…”

Well, Natasha thought dryly, at least he’d had that much sense. “You told me,” she said, trying to keep her voice gentle. “I believe you.” 

He relaxed. Natasha pulled her hand away slowly. “I’m going to get you something to drink.” 

This time she risked a little bit of Gatorade, and if he grimaced at the taste, he still drank it. Some of the color had started to return to his face, and he looked a little less like he was at death’s door. 

She could feel him studying her as she checked the bandages again. “You’d know better than me,” she said. “Do these stitches need to come out now or should I leave them for another day?” 

Loki pushed himself up on his elbows with a groan and looked down. “Not...this instant,” he said. “But today.”

Natasha whistled. “You _do_ heal fast.”

Loki’s smile was a little sickly. “Lucky me.” It took Natasha a moment to work out what he was getting at, but it wasn’t too hard to realize that if your victim could take more punishment and heal faster, it greatly expanded the ways you could torture them. 

“Mixed blessing, I guess,” she said dryly, to cut the tension. Loki laughed weakly and dropped back down to lying flat. 

“If you have things to do,” Loki said eventually, looking up at the ceiling, “I am perfectly capable of lying about on my own.”

“I’m aware. You don’t need to give _me_ permission.” She let there be the slightest emphasis in her voice. Loki subsided, and she stood up. “Have you thought any more about what we...discussed?” 

Loki tensed. It was slight, but she still caught it. “I have.” 

“And?” 

“And what?” Loki asked, eyes slipping away from her. “I thought you had said everything you meant to say.”

“I told you a lot of things,” Natasha said. “I figured you might need some time to process, considering a lot of it seemed to be pretty confusing for you. So. Questions? The floor’s open.”

Loki looked, she thought, almost more vulnerable than she’d ever seen him. And it wasn’t just that he was wounded. She had to be careful; he was fragile, and she was asking a lot. He licked his lips nervously. 

“What you said,” Loki said slowly, “about my...making you do things that I may not...have chosen. I do not blame you.”

“I know you don’t,” Natasha said. “That’s kind of the problem.” Loki’s eyebrows pulled together, and Natasha sighed. “Let’s try this another way. When you come to me, you’re giving over control of yourself to me. Putting your body and mind in my hands. But somehow it’s still your responsibility if I do something wrong?” 

“It is not-”

“Wrong? Yes, it is.” Natasha rubbed her temples. “I can push you, Loki. And I can push you hard. But there’s a line. I know I crossed it once, because if you start _dissociating_ in bed then something _is_ wrong. And maybe that’s the worst it’s been, but I’d guess not the only time I’ve taken you further than you wanted to go. And if it’s your job to let me know when you’re hitting your limit, it’s my job, too, to make sure you don’t. It’s a balance.”

“I do not want - that kind of control,” Loki said, halting. 

“But you don’t want to have none of it, either.” Natasha fixed him with a stare. “That was part of the problem when I drugged you, wasn’t it? That I pushed too hard on the fact that there was nothing you could do. That’s what triggered you, at least partly, and you started responding to me like I was someone else.” 

Loki said nothing, but a tic in his jaw spasmed. Natasha softened her voice. “It’s not _all_ or _nothing._ You don’t have to give yourself up completely, to whatever I - or anyone - wants to do to you, or else have to cling to your control no matter how much you want to let it go. For most people, it’s something that requires a lot of trust.”

That little spasm again. “You do not trust me.”

Natasha shrugged. “Not really, no. You don’t trust me, either. But I’m trying to be honest with you, and I’m asking that you be honest with me, at least in this. That’s a start.”

“Honesty is not one of my gifts,” Loki murmured. 

“Mine either,” Natasha said. “But I can do it. So can you. And if you want me to keep on doing as we have been, you will.” She paused, and added, “I’m not saying it’s easy. But I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you were up to the challenge.” 

Loki’s expression flickered briefly with gratitude, and after a long moment he nodded. “Very well,” he said quietly. “I can...try to be honest with you.” 

Natasha half smiled. “Good boy,” she said. He flushed, and she walked over to crouch down next to the couch. “So. Those stitches?” 

Loki nodded, a short little up-down jerk of his head. She noted how his mouth tightened and gave him a long look. “Are you going to be all right?”

“Yes,” Loki said too quickly. Natasha waited, and after a moment he glanced away, jaw twitching. “Probably.” 

She sat back. “What is it?” Loki was silent, and she lowered her voice, not adding an edge, just making it harder. Firmer. “Loki.” 

“It is entirely possible to fix something only for the purpose of making it worse later,” he said after a moment. Natasha frowned, and after a moment he sighed and added, nearly tonelessly, “just part of Amora’s games. I will be fine.”

Natasha understood more easily than she wanted to. It was a simple tactic - make your victim think it was over, offer some kind of succor just to make it worse when you ripped it away later. She paused, looking at Loki.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked quietly, and only a little awkwardly. 

“Not particularly.” 

“Do you need to?” 

There was a longer pause, then. “I do not think it would help,” he said finally. “It would not be...Amora is cruel. Vicious. I knew that; it was why I chose her.” Natasha’s stomach squirmed and Loki added, “you are not her. I know that.” 

“Good,” she said. “Then remember you can tell me to stop if you need.”

She fetched the scissors and some gauze just in case, pulling up a chair and peeling the bandages slowly away until her ugly stitching across his stomach was laid bare. “You’re going to have a wicked scar,” she informed him. “Or will that heal, too?” It would probably help, she figured, to keep him talking. 

“It will...fade. But a wound like this...not entirely.”

“Don’t let it bother your vanity,” Natasha said dryly. “You’ll still be plenty pretty.” She clipped the first stitch and pulled it out, dropping it onto a towel. Loki only twitched a little, his eyes drifting to her face and fixing there. Focusing. “Does it hurt?” 

“Only a little.” 

“Good,” Natasha said, snipping the second. “Then we didn’t leave them in too long.” She wanted to ask more questions about Amora, but it seemed better to let that wait. By the fifth stitch, Loki was sweating, his eyes on Natasha taking on a certain sheen of desperation.

She started talking quietly, trying to keep him focused on the present. Rambling about what she’d been watching lately , nothing important, nothing terribly interesting, but it seemed to work. By the time she was done, he looked limp and exhausted but not checked out or on the verge of a panic. 

“Done,” she told him, and Loki exhaled loudly. Natasha stood up and threw out the old bandages and stitches, giving him a moment to collect himself before she went back over with a glass of water, helping him sit up a little so he could drink it. One of Loki’s hands fluttered toward the scar but fell away before touching it. 

“Thank you,” he said, not quite looking at her. 

“You’re welcome.” Natasha set the glass aside. “So. What do you need now?”

“Need?” Loki said blankly. She raised her eyebrows. 

“That’s what I said.” 

Loki blinked at her. “I don’t...know,” he said slowly, like it had been a while since anyone had asked him that question. Maybe it had, Natasha realized; definitely since anyone had asked him like _that._ Even before when she had it’d been with an edge. “Is there anything you...need to do?” 

She shrugged. “Nothing urgent. Benefits of unemployment.” She half smiled, though it felt a little strained. Loki didn’t comment, to her relief. “There are...things I’ll have to do, yeah. I can’t just vanish entirely - you already raised some eyebrows when you asked Tony about me.”

Loki nodded, though she thought she caught a brief spark of fear in his eyes. She thought about telling him that this apartment was as secure as she could make it, but she doubted that would actually help - that kind of fear wasn’t rational.

“By all means, attend to your duties,” Loki said with admirable serenity. “I do not need a minder.”

“I thought we’d established that you do,” Natasha said coolly. Loki looked like he couldn’t decide whether to scowl or blush. “But that isn’t the point. You can’t sleep all the time. So do you want books, movies, crossword puzzles…”

“What sort of puzzles?” Loki said, with just a trace of curiosity, like he was trying to hide it. 

“I bet you’ll like them,” Natasha said. “Though some of the references’ll go over your head. Might be worth a try. I’ll bring some stuff, as long as you swear to stay put and not do anything stupid.”

“I will not do anything stupid,” Loki said, with some light irony. Natasha gave him a thin, sharp smile.

“Glad to hear it.”

* * *

She woke up to the sound of Loki crying out. Not screaming - more of a yelp that waned to softer sounds of pain and muffled weeping. Natasha rolled out of bed and made her way out to the living room, where Loki was lying on the couch twitching, his breathing harsh and irregular. 

“Loki,” she said, reaching out cautiously, and he came flailing awake, almost hitting her in the face, staring unseeing past her shoulder. Natasha took a wrist and grabbed his chin, turning his face toward her. He started to snarl, then shook himself, plainly struggling to focus and pull out of where he’d been.

“Focus on me,” Natasha said. “On _me._ ”

He stared at her, breathing hard, but some of the ferality left his expression. “Good,” she said, still keeping her voice firm. “Now breathe deep. Hold it.” She waited for him to do it, then commanded, “now let it out.” He did, explosively, eyes fixing on her more clearly. “That’s it.” 

Shame started to creep into his expression and he looked away from her. Clinically, Natasha thought it was probably a good thing - in some ways that he was whole enough to _feel_ shame was...something. But she didn’t want to encourage it. “You’ve done this before,” she said. It wasn’t a question. “It’s fresh, right now. It’ll get less intense. Always does.”

Loki’s eyes rolled over to look at her, and if he didn’t quite look surprised, there was a question in his eyes. Natasha smiled thinly. “I’m not invincible either. And sometimes my work involves getting caught on purpose.”

The flicker of Loki’s expression suggested that he didn’t like that, which was certainly interesting - though not particularly surprising. She wondered how much it was about her and how much it was the fact that he needed to see her as invulnerable to justify his own submission.

Dangerous to allow that illusion to continue, no matter how much she’d allowed it before now. She noted it down for something else that would need discussing. 

“And when it is too much?” Loki asked, very quietly. “Where do you go then?” 

That was a question she didn’t want to touch, so she redirected it. “Where do you want to go, Loki?”

He put a hand over his eyes again. “I don’t know. I want…” She could hear him, hovering on the edge of asking.

“No,” she said. Loki twitched, and she reached out to run her fingers into his hair. “Not now. Not straight out of a nightmare when you’re not thinking straight.”

He pulled his hand away and scowled at her. “I _am_ thinking straight.” 

She met his gaze levelly. “So you’re not just asking me to fuck you because you’re desperate to purge the memory of someone else’s hands?” Loki’s silence was answer enough. “Yeah, I thought so. Besides, you just regrew a set of intestines. I’m pretty sure sex is not the thing to do. Sorry. You’re going to have to wait.”

Loki closed his eyes and turned his head away, expression tightening. “I am healed enough.” 

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t trust you to make that call.” Natasha eyed him. “I think it’s better not to risk it. But…” She gave him a little push. “Get on the floor.” 

Loki blinked at her. “What?” 

“I don’t like repeating myself,” Natasha said, though she kept her voice even, patient. “The floor, Loki.”

She moved away and watched him shift off the couch and onto the ground. The way he moved suggested that his assessment of his own healing had, indeed, been a little premature. 

Natasha eyed the bloodstains on the upholstery; poor piece of furniture was never going to be the same. She went and got a towel, spreading it out, ignoring Loki’s eyes on her as she stepped over him and sat down.

“What are you doing,” Loki said, a hint of nerves in her voice. Natasha rested one of her feet on Loki’s chest and pushed him down to the ground. 

“Lie down,” she said. “Just stay there. Quit fidgeting.” She let her feet press down just lightly on his chest. “Stay there. Breathe.” 

He stayed tense at first, but she felt him relax gradually, a little at a time. His eyes, watchful on her face at first, drifted slowly closed. 

“Thank you,” he said, barely audible. Natasha tried to mask her startle. 

“You’re welcome,” she said after a brief pause. “Try to sleep.”

He did, eventually. Not well, but it was something, and Natasha watched him and thought. 

* * *

Loki healed, more slowly than Natasha had thought he would. She filed away the possible information that his healing factor could be depleted somehow, if pushed hard enough, but it was the absent part of her that catalogued the weaknesses of most people around her, rather than something with much intent behind it. 

In the meantime, she emerged from her cave and met Steve for coffee, since he’d started to worry too. Not audibly, but she could read it in his texts. 

“Any luck?” she asked bluntly. Steve’s face fell and he shook his head. 

“Not yet,” he said. “I’m still looking.” He examined her. “What about you? Any new trouble? You’ve been quiet.” 

_You wouldn’t believe this, but…_ She shook her head. “Nothing new. Just taking some time for myself.”

Steve sat back. “You’re chewing on something.” 

It was easy to mistake Steve’s straightforwardness for a lack of subtlety. “I am,” she allowed. “But I’m not ready to talk about it yet.” 

That was the good thing about Steve, though. He let it go, at least for now. No doubt he was going to remember it, and circle back to it later, but hopefully by then her head would be clearer. 

Clint was harder. He knew her better, and she knew him, and she knew what she was doing would hurt him. But she’d always been good at keeping her life compartmentalized, and however things changed with Loki that, at least, wouldn’t. 

And in a way it was nice. Things with Clint were...uncomplicated. Easy. She knew where they stood. 

Clint slapped the mat, grimacing. “Fuck, Nat,” he said. “What’s the matter? You don’t go this hard unless you’re stressed about something.” 

“It’s been a stressful year,” she said neutrally. “Beating you up always helps.”

“I’m glad it helps someone.” He rolled his shoulder back, giving her a pathetic look, but it faded quickly. “Seriously. What’s bothering you?” 

Natasha shrugged. “Unemployment sucks.” Lying to Clint didn’t feel great, but it wasn’t the first time. And it was still better than the alternative. 

Clint’s expression went sympathetic. “I’m not going to disagree with you there.” 

The relief on Loki’s face when she came back was so pathetic that Natasha almost felt guilty for leaving. She raised her eyebrows at him. “Are you going to get separation anxiety on me?” 

Loki flushed. “No,” he said. “Don’t be absurd.” 

Natasha let that go without calling him on it. 

* * *

Something was itching at Loki, and it wasn’t just his healing wounds. He was restless, anxious, watching her only to look away when she glanced at him. 

She let him stew in it for a few days, wondering if he’d come around to saying whatever it was, but eventually it was getting to _her_ badly enough that she gave up. 

“All right,” she said. “What is it?” Loki eyed her, glass of water frozen halfway to his mouth. “And no,” she added, “‘Nothing’ isn’t an acceptable answer. Even you can’t lie well enough to convince me of that.” 

Loki set down the glass of water slowly. “I need…” He paused. “I can feel it. Like insects crawling under my skin, the world - tilting out of balance.”

Natasha just looked at him, waiting, and after a long moment he inhaled, anger flashing through his eyes. “I can control it,” he said. 

“But you don’t want to,” Natasha said quietly. She shouldn’t be surprised. It’d been a long time, and if the other night had probably staved some of it off, for Loki the ability to surrender control and sex were still too closely intertwined to pull apart. 

“You won’t,” Loki said into her silence. He sounded a mixture of angry and resigned. “You think I am too weak-”

“You’re fragile,” Natasha said bluntly. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea, especially considering the last person you had sex with-”

“You aren’t her,” Loki said with surprising ferocity. “I would rather have your scars than hers. I won’t - I won’t _break._ ”

“You might,” Natasha said. Loki twitched, but he didn’t look away from her. Natasha looked at him for a long time, and finally inclined her head. 

“All right,” she said. “But we’re playing by my rules.”

“Aren’t we always?”

Natasha gave him a crooked smile. “Yeah. But you don’t always like admitting it. And you do like to push.”

Loki just looked at her for a long moment, then twitched his head in a nod. “I will...follow your lead.”

“Good boy,” she said with a smile, and watched him both tense and shiver. 

“So what...is your lead?” He asked. 

“Bedroom,” she said, “but leave your clothes on. At least for now.”

Loki stood slowly, and went. He looked fairly steady on his feet to Natasha’s eye, but she still paced back and forth for a few seconds, wondering if she was making the wrong choice. 

This wasn’t just for him, though. Ideally, she’d go slower, but she needed to rebuild the trust she’d lost, and needed to...feel her way into how things were going to be, now. 

Natasha walked back to the bedroom and stopped in the doorway. Loki’s eyes flicked toward her, obediently on his back, but he looked tense, nervous. She walked more slowly, approaching him, telegraphing her movements and climbing onto the bed. His breathing quickened and Natasha paused, sitting back. 

“Shh,” she said. “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

Loki licked his lips. “Isn’t that what you’re here for?” 

“No,” Natasha said. “I’m here to keep you grounded. To take you apart and put you back together again. To rip away that desperate hold on self-control and force you to surrender, the way you need.” 

Loki shuddered, his lips parting slightly, and his eyes were fixed on her. That expression - like she was temporarily the only fixed point in his world - was dangerously addictive. Natasha’s skin tingled and she swung her leg over to straddle his thighs, acutely conscious of the wiry muscle against her legs. 

This was...good. She’d missed it. And even with everything there was to be wary of…

She touched his collarbone, lightly. “Safe word.” 

“What?” 

“Safe word,” she repeated. “Something you’ll say if I push you too hard.” Loki’s expression tensed, and she said, “I’m not moving forward without one. Something easy to say, that you won’t say accidentally. And nothing emotionally loaded.”

Loki licked his lips again, and she waited. “Magpie,” he said finally. Natasha felt her lips twitch and stilled them. 

“Swear you’ll use it, if you need to.” 

Another hesitation that she waited out. “I swear.”

“Good,” Natasha said, rubbing a thumb over his cheekbone. Loki reacted like she’d run her nails down his chest, and she wasn’t sure if it was the praise or the touch that did it. The thought occurred to her that this, with her, might be the only skin-to-skin contact Loki had had in a while. It was pretty clear he needed it. She’d have to remember that. 

Loki turned his head suddenly and sucked her thumb into his mouth, tongue curling around her finger. Natasha felt a tug down between her legs and pressed her thumb down, forcing his mouth open so she could slide index and middle finger between his lips. Loki’s eyes closed, sucking her fingers, the warm suction reminding her of the sweet things he could do with his tongue. Natasha rocked slightly, not quite grinding against him, and pulled her fingers out of his mouth, wiping off the saliva on his skin. 

He made a very quiet noise. “Easy there,” she said soothingly. “Don’t rush me.” 

Natasha pushed the shirt up over Loki’s stomach, running her fingers over the scar across his abdomen. It was still livid, and by the way Loki shuddered still somewhat sensitive as well. She paused. 

“Do you need to wait?” She asked, and then added, “and if you lie…”

“No,” Loki said. “No, I’m…as long as you do not demand acrobatics.” 

Natasha smirked. “No. Right now you’re going to lie back and take what I give you.” She watched him closely, not entirely sure she trusted his assessment, but the flicker across his features wasn’t fear. She ran her thumb along the line of the scar again. 

There’d be no knives for a while, she knew. 

Loki licked his lips. “And…what is it you are going to give me?” 

She slid her hand further up and pinched one of his nipples, using her thumbnail. Loki jerked and sucked in a breath. “Why, Loki,” she said sweetly. “You should know better than to ask me questions.” 

Through the sweatpants she’d put on Loki, Natasha could feel his body responding, even before she shifted her hips to bear down against him. She lifted away the moment Loki’s body bucked up against her, only to grind back down, dragging herself against his filling cock. She heard him gasp softly, quiver, but this time his hips stayed flat to the bed. 

“Good,” she praised, and he shuddered like she’d taken his cock in her hand and stroked. He was so damn thirsty for praise. Desperate, really, and the strength of his reaction fed the heat in Natasha’s stomach and the clench between her legs. 

“Give me your hand,” she said. Loki held one out and she took it, biting into the meat between thumb and forefinger. He sucked in a breath and she guided his fingers to brush against the waistband of her jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them with her other hand. Loki’s fingers crept downward and she squeezed his wrist. 

“No,” she said. “Ask.” 

Loki licked his lips again. “May I?” 

“Yes.” Natasha released his wrist and rocked her hips into his hand as it slid under her underwear. He gathered moisture from her core and then dragged his hand back forward until his fingertips were teasing on either side of her clit. 

She bit her tongue to keep from making a sound, though the jerk of her hips probably spoke volumes. Natasha dropped her hands to Loki’s sides, digging her nails in. She locked her eyes on his. “In me,” she said, ignoring the slight tremble in her voice, keeping her voice steady even as her hips rocked into Loki’s touch, the delicate tap of his fingertip against her clit that sent little shocks through her whole body, down to her toes. Loki moved, but she pressed a hand against his chest. “Your fingers. We’ll see if you earn more than that.” 

Loki made a noise in the back of his throat but obediently slid his fingers back through her folds, teasing against her with just one fingertip not quite inside. “Loki,” she said, not quite a warning, but his breath snagged and he slid two fingers into her. Natasha’s back arched and she inhaled, a shiver of satisfaction running through her body. 

“That’s good,” she crooned, and felt him shudder. She moved against his hand, finding the angle where his fingertips made liquid heat pool in her stomach. Loki’s fingers twitched and curled inside her and Natasha gasped, throwing her head back. She could feel him watching her, hear the ragged cadence of his breathing, but for once he didn’t say a word to mock or goad her. He seemed to be chasing her pleasure almost as desperately as she was, and when Natasha looked down his cock was hard and leaking. 

She wrapped her hand around him loosely. “Make me come,” she said, “and I’ll ride you until you can’t breathe.” 

Loki gasped, his eyes squeezing closed, and quickened the motions of his hand, shifting the angle so his fingers pushed even deeper, reaching a spot inside her that made Natasha gasp and jump. His thumb went back to teasing her clit, light little brushes paired with that stroking deep inside. She could feel herself starting to shake and grabbed Loki’s hip with her free hand, rocking almost frantically. She opened her eyes to see that Loki’s were closed, lips pressed together like he was fighting not to make a sound. 

For some reason, that pushed her over the edge. Her body clamped down around Loki’s fingers and she shook, sweet relief washing through her. She caught herself on Loki’s chest. With her other hand she rubbed pre-come around the head of Loki’s cock. 

“What now?” She asked, once she trusted her voice. Loki’s eyes opened. 

“Isn’t that - up to you?” 

“I want to hear you ask.” She rubbed the pad of her thumb against the slit, raising her eyebrows. Loki licked his lips, fingers still inside her twitching so that she had to stifle a gasp. 

“Let me fuck you,” he said. Natasha grabbed his cock and squeezed just a little too hard. 

“That didn’t sound like a question.”

“Please,” Loki said, voice fracturing. “ _Please_ let me…”

“Better,” Natasha said. “But you’re not fucking _me,_ Loki. I’m fucking _you._ You’re going to lie there and take it, let me ride you until you collapse.” 

Loki made a faint noise in the back of his throat. “Might not - be as long as you’d like.” 

“I’m sure it’ll be long enough.” She gave him a smile, only slightly sharp edged. “All else fails...you still have that clever tongue of yours.”

He gasped, quietly, and she moved so his fingers slid out of her, shifting to guide her body over his cock, rubbing the head against herself. Loki quivered, holding his breath, and she looked at his face to see his eyes were squeezed closed. 

She eased herself down over him slowly, holding her own breath so she didn’t make a sound for how sweet it felt. She shifted her hips until she could feel the head of his cock inside her rubbing just right and then moved, slowly, knowing exactly how excruciating it would be for both of them. 

Loki made a small, muffled sound, his hips jerking up toward her, and she fell still. 

“I’m sorry,” he said in a rush. “Sorry - Natasha-”

She felt a pang low in her stomach. Never before would he shift so easily into pleading for forgiveness like that, and she could guess why he did now. She would have to be careful; Loki right now was more vulnerable, more raw, than she was used to. Different limits. “Shh,” she said, but not too gently, running her fingers along his side with just a hint of nail. “I’ll let you make it up to me.”

Loki drew in a shuddering breath and went limp. Or, most of him went limp. His cock inside her just seemed to stiffen further, and Natasha bit back her own gasp. 

She started moving again, setting a slow rhythm and watching Loki’s face as it cracked further open, the last fragments of his mask falling away to reveal that naked, bleeding self that took her breath away. The complete surrender, the sense of something wild held between her hands. Natasha felt her body clench and didn’t hold back her moan, let Loki hear it as she braced her hands on his hips and rode him hard.

Loki keened, twisting underneath her, but she didn’t slow, rocking her hips and chasing her own pleasure building inside her. “Please,” the word bursting from his lips. “Please, let me-”

“No,” she said, her voice as hard as she could make it when she was as breathless as she felt. “Not yet. Not until I come.”

Loki flung his head back and closed his eyes, his long pale throat laid bare. She leaned forward and pressed her thumb lightly to the hollow at the base. “That’s it,” she said, touching her voice with praise, and felt him shudder.

She pulled away, dug her fingers into his hips and moved, quick thrusts that brought their bodies together hard, his cock sliding slickly in and out of her. She moved her hand to tease her own clit, shifting so each thrust rubbed against the spot inside her that made her toes curl. She could feel Loki twitching, barely holding back, sucking in short, sharp breaths.

She shifted her hips, rolled them against him, and Loki cried out, his body stiffening as he came in warm pulses deep inside her. Natasha rode him through it, breathing hard as she reached her own peak and came, shuddering through it. Another time, she might have chastised him for coming before her, but just now...she thought she’d leave it alone.

Loki’s chest heaved, gulping air, his body shaking under her and his eyes squeezed closed. “Look at me,” Natasha said, her voice firm but not hard.

Loki’s eyes opened wide, pupils blown and staring at her.

“I don’t need to hurt you to control you,” Natasha said. “Just like I don’t need to be able to overpower you physically to control you. There’s more than one way to take you apart.” She rolled her hips where they were still joined together, and Loki made a high pitched sound.

“I can’t-!”

“I know,” she said, lowering a hand to stroke his hip. She didn’t think she could, either. Still, when she lifted her hips to let him slide out of her, Loki made a small noise of disappointment. Shortly after, though, his breathing started to turn unsteady and he shivered. 

Natasha pulled the blankets up over them and settled down with her chest to his back, letting her hand rest loosely on Loki’s hip. 

“You can stay here,” she said. “While you’re recuperating.”

Loki fell still, for a moment not even breathing. “You said…” 

“I know what I said.” Natasha let her arm slide over his waist so her fingers could brush the fresh scar. “I changed my mind.” 

Loki nodded shakily, after a moment. Natasha managed not to exhale her relief too loudly. 

“Will you come here?” He asked, voice small. 

“If I can. Yes.”

Loki went limp, though Natasha could still feel the occasional tremor running through him. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“You’re welcome,” Natasha said. She ran her fingers into his hair and tugged lightly. “Next time, I’ll have that collar ready for you.” 

“I would wear it,” Loki mumbled, sounding half asleep. Four words, and only an admission of something she’d already known. 

It still made Natasha feel dangerously warm. From Loki, that seemed like trust. 


End file.
